


i could have missed the pain (but i'd have had to miss the dance)

by spiritsontheroof



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Getting Back Together, Jack Dalton Loves Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), M/M, Pining, Slow Dancing, Tired Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), i abuse commas once again, i physically cannot end sentences, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23964478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritsontheroof/pseuds/spiritsontheroof
Summary: “Jack. What are you doing?”Jack looks at him with a grin. “I’m dancing with you, Mac, what’s it look like?”
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 92





	i could have missed the pain (but i'd have had to miss the dance)

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! hope you enjoy this, all mistakes are my own.  
> title is the dance by garth brooks  
> come see me on tumblr @spiritsontheroof

Mac really underestimates how badly Jack leaving is gonna hurt. He expects an ache here and there, more a dull annoyance than actual pain. He doesn’t think it’ll be anything he can’t ignore, expects it to be something that goes away in a few days. 

He’s wrong, has never been so blindsided by something in his life. 

The pain is sharp in his chest, leaves him breathless every time he feels it. It feels like someone is digging something sharp into his ribs and twisting. He’s had gunshot wounds that are less painful that how this feels. 

Some days the pain is bearable, he can breathe through it and pretend it isn’t there, that he’s okay, even if it hurts like hell. 

Other days, he can barely see straight, spends all day long fighting tears that threaten to fall until he’s home and he can let it out. He thinks about Jack on those lonely nights, memories vivid in his head as he lays in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Memories of beer on the deck and long nights of action movies. Memories of missions and near death experiences. Memories of kisses in the darkness of an empty house, hickies and bite marks and clothes strewn through the house. 

The memory that hurts the most, though, is the memory of their last night together. Mac feels the tears well up again as he thinks of it, chest tightening as he takes a gasping breath.

  
  


\--

  
  


_Jack sits on the opposite end of the couch, lips wrapped around his beer, swaying back and forth to the song playing softly from the speaker on the kitchen counter. Mac watches him intently with a soft smile, trying not to let the sadness of the finality in this moment ruin their night. Jack looks at Mac for a moment with something in his eyes Mac can’t quite read and then he gets up, sits his beer on the end table before moving to push the coffee table out of the way._

_“What are you doing?” Mac asks, sitting up straight on the couch._

_Jack comes over, offers a hand to Mac. “Come here,” he says softly,_

_Mac takes Jack hand and stands, making a surprised noise when Jack pulls him in. Jack places his hands on Mac’s waist and Mac’s slide around Jack’s neck out of habit, and Jack starts swaying them back and forth._

_Mac laughs and lets Jack move them. “Jack. What are you doing?”_

_Jack looks at him with a grin. “I’m dancing with you, Mac, what’s it look like?”_

_Mac cocks his head and gives Jack a look, because Jack knows that isn’t what he means._

_Jack sighs and reaches up to brush Mac’s hair from his eyes, fingers trailing softly down his cheek. “Just… let’s not talk about it, okay? Just let me have this.”_

_Mac swallows hard and nods because it’s easier than arguing, can’t even find it in him to tease Jack about the corniness of late night slow dancing. Mac leans in, rests his head against Jack’s shoulder and breathes deep. He tries to etch the memory into his mind, like if he concentrates hard enough, he can make this moment permanent. The smell of Jack’s cologne, the feeling of calloused fingers pressing into Mac’s hips, the feeling of wholeness in his chest, because who knows how long it’ll be until he gets to have this again._

_They stay like that for a long time, songs coming and going as they swayed in the middle of Mac’s living room, until Mac pulls away and kisses Jack, squeezing his eyes closed to keep his budding tears from rolling as Jack heats the kiss up, hands sliding up Mac’s back, cool against his skin. Things escalate from there, and before Mac knows it, he’s naked in bed, on his back with Jack hovering over him. They spend the rest of their night in bed, clothes forgotten. Nothing existed beyond the confines of Mac’s bed until the next morning when Jack slipped out of bed to go home and gather his things before it was time to really say goodbye._

_Mac lays there for a long time, like the day can’t start if he just ignores it. But his alarm goes off and he goes to work, and Jack breaks his heart right there in the war room._

  
  


\--

  
  


Mac knows he can’t blame the way he’s feeling on anyone but himself. The pain was avoidable, but Mac made a choice. Mac knows he could have avoided this feeling if he’d just never taken that next step with Jack. If there hadn’t been too many beers on a too late night after a too hard mission. But even on the days that he goes home and lays in bed, feeling like the loneliest man in the world, he can’t bring himself to regret any minute he ever spent with Jack. How could he? The pain is well worth how he felt when they were together, how he felt on that last night, wrapped in Jack’s arms, feeling more loved than he’s ever felt in his life.

He tries not to think about Jack too much while he’s working, saves all that for those lonely nights, and it takes some adjusting, but he learns to work without needing Jack’s voice in his ear. It’s hard in the field without Jack, and Mac hates it despite learning to work without his better half. Desi is great, he’s thankful for her, but she doesn’t fill Jack’s shoes in the way he needs her to. She definitely doesn’t fill the hole Jack left in his heart, but Mac doesn’t hold that against her because it’s a pretty impossible feat. 

The work starts getting tedious and Mac starts to hate it, and he expresses this to Riley. She tells him it’s okay, that she understands, and Mac knows she really does. He never needed to say anything for Riley to know what he was thinking. She’s seen right through him since day one, reads him like an open book, and she can see how tired he is of holding himself up and pretending it doesn’t hurt. So she suggests he uses all the vacation time he’s saved up and go somewhere, they can survive without him, you need this, Mac, _go_.

So Mac does. Matty approves the time off and as it turns out, Mac accumulated over six months paid vacation. Matty tells him to take his time, she’ll find him if he’s needed, and that she hopes he comes back feeling like himself. It means a lot to him that she cares, so he hugs her, and then he goes home to pack the truck and hits the road. 

Mac heads through the states first, eating greasy truck stop burgers and gas station hot dogs, sleeping in shady motels and hitting bars. He makes it across the midwest into Kentucky, hikes the Appalachian trail for a while, spends his days in the blistering sun just walking, taking in the outdoors, looking for something he never seems to be able to find. Maybe because he’s not sure exactly what he’s searching for. 

  
  


\--

  
  
  


He decides two months in he wants to go somewhere else, out of the states. Somewhere far, somewhere he can help people without feeling like the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. 

He starts in Nigeria again, just to be somewhere familiar. He checks in on the village again, on Nasha, makes sure his pump is still bringing them fresh water. He checks on Nasha, who is as beautiful as ever and over the moon to see Mac. Mac is just as happy to see her, the purity of her soul cleaning his just from one day surrounded in her light. He stays for a week and then he leaves, feeling rejuvenated in his search to find himself. 

He still thinks about Jack, almost every day. It still hurts, just not like it used to, and he’s starting to think he’s going to be okay. The memories aren’t painful to think about, make warmth rise in his chest rather than making tears pool in his eyes. It’s nice. 

Riley texts a few times to check on him, make sure he’s alive, let him know how work is going. They’re getting on without him quite well and Mac is glad to hear it, he knew they’d still be fantastic without him. Matty doesn’t call after him and he’s glad for it, because he isn’t ready to go back, not yet, because he’s still searching for that one thing he can’t quite get ahold of. 

He goes to Vietnam to help the relief efforts from the typhoons and the hurricanes, helps rebuild homes and hand out resources, and he feels good about it. It’s sad to see the struggle but it makes him feel good to know he’s making an impact, no matter how small it may be. He likes being able to help, to save people, without the whole world resting in his hands. 

  
  


\--

  
  
  


Mac goes to Italy, back to Lake Como. He thinks of simpler times, before he knew Nikki was CIA, before Thornton turned, before he knew Riley or Matty, before Bozer was apart of the Phoenix. Back when he was just some bright eyed kid, fresh out of the army, him and his overwatch against the world. He wants to say maybe those were the best times of his life, but they weren’t and he knows that. The best times of his life happened when they stopped being DXS and became the Phoenix, when he formed this little family he has, the people who he loves and that love him right back, just as hard. The best times of his life are then, are now, are happening right before his eyes and he just never realized until now. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Mac only uses three months of his vacation. Six months would be too long and he’s itching for LA again, he is a California boy at heart and there’s nowhere quite like home. So he hops a flight back, and he feels _good_. He feels like himself, he’s happy, feels thirty years old instead of eighty. His skin is bronzed by the sun and it reminds him of what he used to look like back in the sandbox, all tan skin and cut muscles. His hair is bleached nearly white from the sun and the circles have disappeared from under his eyes, and he looks like a person rather than a skeleton. He still misses Jack, misses him everyday, but he knows now he can survive until Jack comes home. Before all this, he wasn’t so sure he’d last another day. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The team is waiting for Mac when he gets back, throws him a little party in the war room. There’s cake and balloons and he knows this was all Bozer’s idea, so he rolls his eyes despite how grateful he is for it. Riley tackles him in a hug and almost knocks him to the floor, and he’s never been so happy to see her. He missed her, missed having her around to talk to or just be with when he needed it, and she doesn’t say so, but he knows she missed him, too. They all tell him how good he looks, how much happier and healthier and more like himself he seems, and Mac doesn’t have to lie when he says he feels amazing.

They hang out in the war room for a while and then they go out for drinks. He and Riley have way too many tequila sunrises and they butcher a Taylor Swift song, and Matty kicks Bozer’s ass at darts, and it’s the best night he’s had in months. 

He goes back to work after that, and he realizes how badly he’s missed being in the field, how badly he missed the adrenaline that rushes through his veins and the challenge it gives his brain. Being in the field is finally exhilarating again and Mac can’t get enough, he hasn’t been this excited about his job since he first got brought on at DXS. He’s never hesitant, never scared, never comes up short on a plan, because his head is back in the game. Russ tells him he’s brilliant when they come home from their latest mission and for the first time in a long time, Mac believes it.

  
  


\--

  
  


Mac falls back into what little bit of routine his job allows and he doesn’t resent that routine anymore. Mission, game night at his place, one day off, rinse, repeat. It’s nice, and he feels something close to whole again. Not completely, but something close, and he doesn’t miss Jack as much as before. It doesn’t hurt at all, he doesn’t spend any nights crying in bed and thinking about their last dance, and he’s sure Jack will come home. He used to spend all his time wondering if Jack was dead somewhere, forgotten, with no one coming for him. But now he’s sure, deep in his bones, that Jack is alive and he’s coming home, and they’ll get to have their day in the sun again. He’s sure of it. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Work is excruciating this week, so exhausting they all opt to skip game night and just go home for much needed showers and sleep. Mac is practically dead on his feet, barely manages staying awake in traffic on his way home. He takes slow steps into the house, wondering internally if he should skip a shower and just go straight to bed. His mind is so cloudy he overlooks the extra pair of shoes by the door and the jacket hanging on the back of his dining room chair. 

Mac walks into the kitchen, tosses his keys on the counter and grabs a beer from the fridge. 

“Hey, handsome.” Mac hears from behind him. It startles him and he nearly jumps out of his skin, beer dropping from his fingers and shattering across the kitchen floor. 

“ _Jack?”_ Mac says after he whirls around and he sees him, sitting there at the island, like he’d never been gone. 

“In the flesh. Did I scare ya? I’m sorry.” Jack says as he comes around the counter. He moves to bend down and pick up the glass, but Mac catches his arm before he can bend all the way down, so Jack stands back up and looks at Mac, beer pooled at their feet forgotten. 

Mac wouldn’t believe his eyes if he couldn’t feel the solid muscle of Jack’s bicep beneath his fingers, warm skin beneath his palm. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Mac.”

“I feel like I have,” Mac says and lets go of Jack’s arm. He’s shocked, swears he’s dreaming, or his latest explosion got him killed on a mission and this is his afterlife. 

Jack smiles and grabs a towel off the counter, squatting to clean up the mess Mac had made. Mac watches him, heart pounding so loud he’s sure Jack must be able to hear it. 

“I - when did you get back?” Mac stutters as Jack stands up tossing the towel into the sink with the glass wrapped in it. 

“A few hours ago,” Jack says, turning back to face Mac, “I came by to surprise you, but you were working. Called Matty and she said you were on your way back. Figured I’d wait.”

“Wait and nearly scare me to death when I got home?” Mac says, smile forming on his lips as he steps towards Jack.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think it’d take you so long to notice I was here. My car’s in the driveway.” Jack points out and Mac looks out the kitchen window and sure enough, there it is. 

“I was so exhausted when I got home that I didn’t even notice.” Mac chuckles. He’s still exhausted but he’s so excited he doubts he could sleep now even if he tried. 

Jack laughs and the sound is music to Mac’s ears. Jack is here, Jack is _home,_ and Mac can’t believe it.

‘’God, I missed you.” Mac says as he practically launches himself into Jack’s arms, sudden realization washing over him. 

‘’I missed you, darlin’.” Jack mumbles in his ear, arms so tight around Mac it makes his ribs hurt but it’s the most pleasant pain he’s ever felt. It’s reminiscent of the pain that’s lingered in his chest ever since Jack left, except now it means something different, the pain is from being whole rather than because he’s missing a part of his heart. 

Mac pulls away, wants to see Jack’s face. His hair is the longest Mac has ever seen it, and he’s opted for a full beard rather than his trademark scruff. He looks so damn good, Mac can’t stop looking at him, because who looks this good after all that time on a mission?

“It’s so good to see you again,” Mac says after a minute of just staring. “I… God, Jack. I can’t believe it.”

Jack brings his hands up to cup Mac’s face, stroking along Mac’s cheekbones with his thumb. “It’s good to see you. A sight for sore eyes,” he sighs.

The gesture is so soft and it makes Mac’s chest tighten and he feels like he might cry, and he just has to kiss Jack. He can’t wait another second, he’s waited so long already, so he leans in and kisses him, hard and a little desperate. Jack makes a surprised noise but relaxes into it, sliding his hands into Mac’s hair and humming against his mouth. It heats up fast, hands roaming, Jack’s mouth finds that spot on Mac’s jaw that turns him into putty. 

“Bed, _ah_ , bedroom.” Mac moans as Jack mouths at his neck and Jack nods.

“Yeah, okay, Mac. Come on.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Hours later, when they’re spent and happy and done riding aftershocks, something strikes Mac. He gets up, pulls on a pair of sweats from the floor. He finds Jack’s underwear where they’d been tossed earlier and throws them to him before grabbing his phone and turning on the same playlist they’d been listening to the night Jack left. He walks over and offers Jack his hand. 

“Come here,” Mac says with a grin.

Jack obliges, taking Mac’s hand in his and standing. 

Mac puts them in the same position as that night, his arms around Jack’s neck as they sway back and forth. 

“Mac, what are you doing?” Jack says with a laugh, sliding his hands along the bare skin of Mac’s back.

“I’m dancing with you, Jack, what’s it look like?”


End file.
